Storm
by BelladonaTuk
Summary: What is dream and what is fantasy? Between summer days, Sam will see that lad who should only be with him on his memories. Everything felt so real...


**Gettin' better?**

**Disclaimer: Made no money out of this, characters are owned by Tolkien. **

**Enjoy!**

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He stopped in the middle of the dirty road and heard the sky split in thunder. The black clouds covered the stars that night, lit only by the bright electric light whips. There was still half an hour before the storm watered the thirsty crops and calmed the heat that overwhelmed summer days. The lanterns at the sides of the way were consumed in candles unclear, darkness looming around every corner.

Bare-feet, Sam walked through the warm, soothing grass, when he thought he saw something on the horizon. His stomach churned and a strange and emotional warmth filled his entire body when he saw the brown hair and blue-eyed lad that had not seen for years. Those eyes, the same color as the deep sea...

The sea that had taken him.

A sincere smile on the other's still young face, his shirt and trousers still were a little baggy. The other froze, while the young lad moved slowly until both met face to face.

The lamplight shone pale, brightening his features. His face had not had a wrinkle or line of expression; his body still stood erect and firm, despite the years that he should have. His eyes shone like polished diamonds, as the last time they met.

A cold and strong wind extinguished the last flame that lit the road; they were far from any dwelling. The green fields on either side were hit hard by the wind when the first drop of rain fell on the cheek of the bigger man, his blond hair stained in shades of gray. A salty tear went down his cheek, mixed with the fresh water from the sky.

His hair and lips dried. But he kept moving his dark eyes from one incredulous blue eye to the other. A lightning shone up their faces, while a loud thunder broke the silence when the older lad took the youngest onto his arms, sealing years of solitude with a kiss.

His lips brushed hungrily against the youngest while his curious hands caressed the other's back and his arms held him tight to never let him go. Out of breath, the constant rain wet their dry mouths and among scratches and bites, Sam made his way to the inside of the youngest mouth, letting his own warm tongue explore. To feel the wetness of his mouth began to freak the blonde out before screaming his throat out with growls of dissatisfaction. He wanted to go deeper.

Strong winds accompanied by wild thunder threw them both in a puddle, leaving the newcomer under the burly hobbit, both soaked by the storm. Laughing, the young lad kissed the upper lip of his companion with soft bites before returning to take his air between passionate kisses. They rubbed their wet tongues while trying to recover the lost air.

The young blue-eyed lad lay the other on his back, threw his mouth on his slippery throat and filled it with kisses and bites from his lumpy jaw, down her jugular, with special suction in the most sensitive areas, managing to make Sam start murmuring quiet moans of uncontrollable pleasure. He let his fingers move across his damp, when the dark, wavy hair boy began fiddling with the buttons on the now transparent shirt. Slowly his chest began to be uncovered, ending with a fully open shirt.

A long path traced by the tongue of the young man managed to give him a strange tingling in the belly, he could not help himself feeling growl at the other's lips move through his body bathed in raindrops and somewhat aged. He had lost strength and muscles for years, but this new feeling rejuvenated his spirit fully.

He had so many things to say and give, so much to ask. But as if knowing what his partner was thinking, the young lad hushed his ideas with a deep kiss, and then he sat on the hips of the older lad. Sam's cheeks flushed, his most intimate part so touched and explicitly demonstrating his reactions to such caresses and expressions of love.

The young man smiled was big as never before, bright and fleeting. Its immaculately white shirt clung to his body, highlighting his small frame. He raised his arms, a little dizzy, and leaned on the small body to cover it with his strong hands. It was something dreamlike, almost unreal. But the humidity that felt under his fingertips and the pressure on his body was too real.

The young man watched him for a moment and then closed the distance between them with an expectant and eager face. He kissed his lips with his eyes barely open while filtering his delicate hands in Sam's pants. When he felt the warmth of another hobbit- being in his intimate zone, he sighed in surprise and desire, when his companion bit his lower lip hard.

With an up and down motion, the heat ran up throughout the interior of the old lad, sighs and groans of infinite pleasure and necessity escaping from his lips, while removing the clammy shirt of the other's perfectly fine little body. There were no marks or scars, only paleness and coldness. He did not stop shaking until both were wrapped in a hug.

Thunders were the only thing that silenced Sam's moans, who caressed the thighs and buttocks of his companion with despair. The steady and slow speed that the hands of the other that took place between his own legs removed his patience. He snorted dissatisfaction, while the lad with blue eyes slowly descended, without removing his gaze from the other's eyes.

Sam stared in amazement, unable to withdraw his gaze or even blink when he opened the buttons of his breeches, droplets slipped from his nose to his groin. Among small and pelvic curly hair, the young man with piercing eyes stopped observing, taking the full hobbit rugged masculinity on his hands in its entirety and inserting in his hot little mouth.

He could not keep his eyes open, when a wave of pleasure ran through his body. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes in complete lust. Serious guttural moans escaped his throat loudly without retained inside. He felt no embarrassment or shame, just as tangled enjoyed the big fingers through the dark curls, pressing his head, pulling his body. He moved his head from side to side while massaging the lad's wet hair in ecstasy of his senses. His complete masculinity was covered by humidity and the heat of the young. His breathing began to stir while performing movements, surrounding his hips back and forth.

Then, the lad with dark curls' lips left that erogenous area when Sam began to beg for more. He growled, the icy storm abruptly cooled his body.

The blonde could not contain himself and jumped over the other pale body, covering his face with wet and desperate kisses. Without thinking twice, and guided by the needy moans the young writhed beneath him- who touched the older's unstoppable manhood- he infiltrated his thumbs in the sticky and baggy breeches, lowering them down his legs quickly and with impatience. He let the rain wet his thick, dry fingers by his work with the land, when he took the boy's lips on his own and looked for the small entrance in the low hidden parts between his slender legs and lacking muscle. By accessing two fingers, an impact and a sigh of surprise escaped the lips of the man of navy blue eyes. He bit his lower lip more, then lay his head back and exposed his neck to the other's mouth. His jugular was sucked into a path moistened by saliva. Warm, purple marks were left by the full extent of his throat, then down to the fine torso while moving his playful fingers in and out with speed without causing a break. With his other free and strong hand, Sam took the young lad's member and rubbed with upward movements, as if modeling porcelain. He enjoyed the spectacle that the boy's face offered him, keeping on his memory every sigh, every moan and every attempt to say his name, interrupted by a wave of libidinal pleasure wiped his vocal cords.

He removed his fingers of the way and took him by the hips, rose to the height of the pelvis. He placed his masculinity at the entrance and entered slowly. The dark-haired showed on his face the pain he felt when the strength of Sam filled his being. The blonde managed to fully enter, and only when his lover's features relaxed, he began to move, between slow desperate lunges but the narrowness of this erogenous zone.

The other kept squirming between his beefy scratches and whispered promises of love between mixed murmurs of pleasure. He hid his face in his neck and shoulder, biting occasionally. He caught the earlobe of the blond-haired lad between his teeth; Sam quickened his ravenous thrusts, almost tearing the earth that clung on his hands. With speed and precision, making the point of his partner untamed in pleasure.

He was grateful to be away from the village, and when the wind got up angrily, he shook the boy in his arms protectively.

Their moist torsos stuck, the proximity to bodies became fierce. The dark-haired lad mixed his fingers in graying hair and laced his legs to his waist; the speed of the thrusts led both to the point of ecstasy. The body of Sam froze.

Suddenly a violent wind involved them in a violent embrace, the scream of a Nazgul made him deaf. The distance called his name ...

Sam ... Samwise ... Sam ...

He opened his eyes and jumped on the bed, the fine hand of his wife Rosie Cotton still lay on his chest. His body was drenched with sweat and his forehead had salty and cold drops. He breathed heavily, unable to focus his eyes on a fixed object. The voice of the woman got him out of the trance, but still failed to calm him down.

"Sam, my dear Sam, are you okay? Have you caught the cold? "She put his hand on the man's forehead "You started to murmur unintelligible words and were very agitated for five minutes".

But he was not listening. He escaped from her grasp, donned a robe on his body and ran away from his own hobbit-hole, the sound of a storm in the horizon, and walked away, the fresh air that follows after the rain was still in the air.

He ran over the now drizzle, soaking in mud road after stepping over some puddles. He remained standing at the crossroad, near the post that indicated the surrounding villages. His heart pounded in his chest, he was seventy years old, too old for that stuff.

Sam looked to the horizon, just where he had seen his Master coming on his dreams. He hoped, under the intermittent rain, to see the pale figure coming from the west.

He closed his fists when dawn painted orange the remaining clouds.

It was all another dream.

"Wait, my Lord." He thought, while maintaining a firm hope. "I promised I'll never lose you. I do not break my promises."

A great ship with a fantastic sunset occupied his thoughts.


End file.
